Amira stood frozen by the window, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest. Just as she turned to leave, something struck her. She had left her apples outside her room, a silly habit she had developed to calm her nerves.
She hurried to the door and stepped out quickly, just as Aren was slipping into the shadows of the hallway.
"Yh, I forgot my apples. Pass it to me, dear…" she called out, her voice oddly casual, almost teasing.
Aren turned, caught off guard for a second, then a sly grin spread across his face. Amira stepped back into the doorway, picked up an apple from a small bowl on the table, and raised an eyebrow at him.
"Catch!" she said softly, tossing it into the air with a swift flick of her wrist.
Aren reached up and snatched the apple effortlessly, holding it up like a small victory prize. "Nice throw, Princess," he called back, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Without another word, he slipped down the hallway, moving lightly and silent as a shadow.
He kept moving, blending in like a servant, ducking past guards and slipping around corners unnoticed. But as he turned a dim corridor, he felt a sudden, sharp shock at his side, right where his whispering dagger hung.
He ducked into a dark storage room nearby, his heart pounding in his ears. With quick hands, he pulled the dagger out and looked at it closely.
"Hey, Laughing Blade! Don't go back there again," the dagger's voice hissed, tense and urgent. "She betrayed you again! Guards are already coming this way. Be ready, move as fast as you can!"
Aren's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing into thin slits. His mind raced, every thought crashing into the next.
He glanced at the door, fingers drumming on the hilt of the dagger. "I can survive this. I can fight," he muttered to himself, his voice steady despite the chaos inside him.
The dagger gave a low sigh. "Don't be foolish! Let's move now, before it's too late."
Aren paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. Memories of Amira's face flashed in his mind — the small tremble of her hands, the uncertain look in her eyes, the warmth when she threw the apple.
"So she won't stop betraying me, huh? Even after everything… she still turns against me," he whispered, his expression dark and hurt.
He gave a low, humorless laugh. "Looks like I have to make my own path now," he said firmly.
He tightened his cloak, checked his dagger again, and pushed the door open. Outside, he could already hear footsteps pounding closer, guards shouting to each other as they searched the halls.
Aren's eyes sharpened. He knew there was no going back to Amira's room, no more playful games tonight.
The Escape
He broke into a run, sliding into another hidden passage he had discovered long ago. Every step echoed softly under his feet, the dagger in his hand murmuring warnings and guiding him deeper, almost like a trusted companion.
But even as he ran, his mind kept drifting back to Amira.
"Next time," he whispered to himself as he vanished into the dark labyrinth beneath the palace, "I won't hesitate."
Above him, the palace glowed with quiet celebrations, completely unaware that the Laughing Blade was already planning his next move. And this time, he wasn't leaving without the Milu gems… or the answers his heart demanded.
He slowed down and stopped near an old tree, leaning against it to catch his breath. The forest felt alive around him: insects chirped, leaves rustled, and an owl hooted far away. It was a world away from the tight, watchful palace halls.
Aren pulled out his whispering dagger and stared at its gleaming blade as it caught the moonlight.
The Warnings The Dagger Gave
"Hey," he said, his voice low but steady. "Thanks for saving my life tonight."
The dagger seemed to shiver lightly before answering in its soft, secretive voice. "You're welcome," it said.
Aren looked back toward the palace, his eyes narrowing. "What advice do you have for me about that lady? And why didn't you answer me when she was there?"
The dagger paused as if thinking carefully.
"She won't help you," it finally replied. "She's using tricks and matching your playful jokes to trap you later. I won't tell you exactly what would have happened, but for now, stay away from her."
Aren gripped the hilt tighter, his jaw clenched.
"Listen," the dagger continued. "She will come back. If you don't keep your guard up, she might get you killed. Your legacy and your name would disappear."
Aren looked down. The leaves crunched softly under his boots as he shifted. His face showed pain mixed with understanding.
"And one more thing," Aren whispered. "Why didn't you talk when she was there?"
The dagger's voice turned even softer. "She is jealous of you. If she knew I could talk, or that I hold magic, she might have tried to take me or turn you in. You can't risk that."
Aren stood silent, his chest rising and falling slowly. His mind replayed her trembling hands, her laugh, her betrayal.
Finally, he let out a long sigh and lowered the dagger. "So… she wants to destroy me and still acts like she cares. Classic," he muttered, a small, sad smile crossing his face.
He looked up at the sky. The moon shone above him like a lonely guardian.
"Alright then," he said softly to the dagger. "We'll stay sharp. I'll be ready next time. No more games."
He turned and began to walk deeper into the forest, the dagger firm in his hand, whispering quietly to him like an old friend.
Above the trees, the palace lights flickered faintly in the distance. But Aren was already gone, slipping into the shadows, planning his next move, and promising himself he would never let his guard down again.
"NEXT TIME"...